Wo Ai Ni
by LKV
Summary: Jem could never stay mad at Will, and Will was very good at messing up. They were the perfect pair. Will/Jem friendship. No Slash. Set after the incident at the ifrit den.


Jem sat on the edge of his bed, violin perched gracefully upon a thin shoulder. With one hand, he placed his fingers delicately on the fingerboard, the other five fingers picking up the bow with a gentle tenderness. He brought the two together in a melodious blend of chords and harmonies, closing his eyes and relishing the vibrations of the instrument as they created a gorgeous tune he knew so well. His fingers, long and smooth, seemed to move of their own accord sailing to create the perfectly in-tune pitches to a perfectly romantic composition.

He was using the music as a distraction, he knew it. It was as an addict may take the drug to calm nerves and forget. He needed to forget Will for a moment, if only a moment. What his blood brother had done, in no other place than an ifrit den, had deeply upset him, though to the darker haired boy's face, he brushed it off as nothing. Jem didn't usually admit it out loud, but he loved Will, and he was the closest thing he had to a brother. To see him toying with his life with such shallow pleasantries, ones that he himself needed to stay alive burned his soul and stung his heart.

With a heavy sigh, he gave up. He'd been so lost in thought, the music had turned into a greatly depressing combination of both melodic and harmonic minor chords, ones that could bring a stone to tears. He wanted nothing other than to grab his cane and make his way down to Will's room; however, he feared he would lose his composure and say something he'd regret. He smoothed his silvery hair down with his fingers and closed his eyes in a tired frustration, forgetting the rules he'd set for himself and rising to his feet.

He murmured a few of his favourite philosopher's quotes to keep himself calm, translating them to Mandarin to keep himself somewhat distracted as he grabbed his sleep coat and slipped out the door. He noticed that Sophie had dimmed the candles and took the extra precaution not to trip as he made his way down the carpeted hall. He gazed at the portraits of long-dead Shadowhunters, musing about his own portrait being up there one day. He knew he'd die younger than most his age, but at least, he thought with a morbid sense of calm, he'll be remembered.

When he arrived at Will's door, he hesitated, his fist hovering inches from the wooden door. He knew it deep in his gut that he was still angry with his _Parabatai, _and he couldn't fathom saying something that could shatter years of friendship. He closed his silver eyes in frustration, letting his slender fist drop to his side. In the dim light, he could see the _Parabatai_ rune hovering on his chest, through the thin fabric of his nightshirt. He rested his finger where the rune interlaced with itself the most and felt it grow warmer under his touch; swelling with love and compassion for his best friend.

He took a deep breath and inched open the door with an audible creak. Will was half-lying down and half-sitting up on his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of worn trousers, leaning back into his overabundance of down pillows. He had dark crimson bruises under his pale blue eyes, the witchlight on the table near his bed making his eyelashes cast long shadows down his cheeks. The taller boy took a moment to realize Jem was even there, before looking up with childish shame in his eyes.

"Jem," he greeted in a small voice.

Jem said nothing, but let a small smile slip onto his almost-colourless features. He took a step forward and let himself fold onto the bed beside his friend, relishing the soft mattress against his body. He sighed, then looked up at Will, who was apparently looking in every other direction but his. Jem reached out to place his hand over Will's shoulder, feeling a hard knot in the muscle and gently kneading it out. Will murmured something too quiet for Jem to hear and shut his eyes.

Jem continued to silently work the kinks and knots out of Will's neck and bare back, his calloused fingers sliding over the tanned surface of Will's skin. He stayed completely silent, the only sounds in the room were of their breathing. Jem's was slightly steadier while Will's was deep and slow, but shaking slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but didn't know how. The black-haired boy could feel the warm breath of his friend against his back; and, though he wouldn't care to admit it, was relieved the knots in his toned muscles were slowly diminishing from his body.

"Will, please look at me," Jem whispered gently, not without affection.

"Why?" The volume in Will's voice raised and Jem instinctively flinched back.

"Will, just look at me," Jem's voice was no-nonsense and stern.

Will continued to gaze out the window of the Institute, the foggy London haze so different from the green of Wales. With his superb hearing, he could hear the horses and carriages and clatter of the world below them, though all he could see were the tops of buildings much lower than the one he called home. Jem's hand was still on his shoulder, providing a warmth no one else could. All he wanted to do was turn his head slightly to the right and look into his _Parabatai_'s silvery eyes and somehow say the right words to apologize and express the guilt tearing away at his soul. But he'd never been good with words, and he knew if he did, all he'd do was upset poor Jem further.

"I can't, James," he finally replied.

Jem chuckled a bit to himself. He admitted he had already forgiven Will, and he simply wanted to see the darker haired boy happy and smiling – as happy and smiling as he ever got – once again. With a smile too small to be real, more of a quirk of his lips, he reached over his friend and put two fingers under his chin, feeling the scratchiness of a day or two's worth of stubble. He gently, but forcibly, turned Will's head until they were face to face. Will quickly adverted his eyes to the pattern of his bed sheets.

"Yes you can, Will, just like that. Now look up. I can't make you do that," he prodded, letting his fingers fall back to his side.

With a most uncharacteristic timidity, Will shifted his pale blue eyes up towards the slightly older boy. He was greeted with smiling silver eyes and a slight colouring to Jem's cheeks. Jem, before Will could look away again, quickly reached his arms around his friend's body and pulled him close with a strength Will didn't know he possessed. With a light sigh of surrender, Will leaned into the embrace and rested his chin against the back of Jem's shoulder. Jem held him close, his head tucked into Will's neck and his arms cool against the heat of the other Shadowhunter's back. Will clutched at Jem harder, fingernails digging into the back of his shirt. He breathed in the scent of burnt sugar that always followed Jem with a sense of remorse so sincere his eyes watered with sadness.

"I'm so sorry, brother, _os gwelwch yn ddamaddau i mi_," Will murmured in Welsh, his voice thick.

Jem had picked up enough Welsh to know what his Parabatai was saying and replied immediately, "of course I forgive you, _Wo ai ni_," _I love you._

Will and Jem stayed in their embrace for a moment longer before Will pulled away to relax against the pillows on his bed. Jem followed suit, resting back beside his best friend until the two boys were lying beside each other, sides touching. Jem was perched slightly higher, so Will's head touched the top of his shoulder and Will's knees rested against the other boy's ankles. The silence in the room was as thick as the smog that hovered constantly above London's skyline, yet it was comfortable and in a way, intimate. The boys could feel each other's hearts beating and feel the steady rise and fall of their chests as they breathed.

"I don't know why I did it," Will murmured suddenly, knocking Jem from his quiet reverie.

"Pardon?" Jem replied in a voice equally as quiet, letting his head roll to the side to look at the top of Will's head.

"The ifrit den. I don't know why I did it," he said.

Jem remained silent for a moment and Will was sure he'd upset him again, "I don't see why that matters. All is forgiven, and I know that you care for me enough not do it again,"

Will sighed and shut his blue eyes, "I just- I really hope you know that I never wanted to hurt you. I just thought that maybe I could escape all the trials right now, even for a moment-"

Jem quieted him gently, "hush, Will. In the future, you can always come to me. I'm always here, and I'll be here for a while yet. I am far more permanent than a drug you'll simply regret afterwards,"

Will looked up so that he could look his friend in the eyes, "I know. I won't disappoint you like this again, I promise. Thank you, Jem,"

Jem moved his hand over and ruffled Will's thick inky hair, "Go to sleep, Will. You've had a long day,"

"Will you stay?" Jem smiled at the childishness in his voice and nodded, "goodnight, then,"

Jem simply smiled and pulled the blanket tight around Will's shoulders tenderly. He rested back against the pillows and shut his eyes, letting himself drift into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. In his sleep, Will rolled over and threw his arm over Jem's chest and said boy murmured something in his sleep, reaching out to clutch the outstretched limb.

Late that night, Charlotte slid into the room to say goodnight to Will and found the two boys fast asleep, Will's arm still splayed across Jem. She laughed quietly, and with a burning affection blossoming in her heart, she pulled the blankets on Will's bed to cover the two sleeping Shadowhunters and brushed the hair out of their eyes with her nimble fingertips. One last look to the two, she slipped out of the room and headed back to her own room.

"You would never guess what I just saw," Charlotte sighed as she curled into bed next to Henry, who was reading an old, yellowing book.

He pulled her into his side and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, placing his book on the nightstand beside the bed, "what would that be dear, because it couldn't be more boring than that book,"

Charlotte swatted his shoulder affectionately, "I went to say goodnight to Will and when I walked in, he and Jem were fast asleep, and he seemed to be holding Will against him. It was a heart-warming sight,"

Henry looked puzzled, "but shouldn't Jem be mad at Will?" his voice was quizzical.

Charlotte sighed at her husband's cluelessness, "oh dear, you obviously don't know Jem that well. Those two are so close Jem would forgive Will for murder,"

Henry started, his hair falling into his eyes, "Will murdered someone? Oh dear I hope the clave doesn't- "

"Henry," charlotte interrupted, "Henry dear, I was speaking figuratively. Will never killed anyone. I sincerely hope he never will kill anyone. I was simply saying that Jem could never stay mad at poor Will,"

Henry looked relieved, "Oh thank goodness, I almost felt afraid there for a moment,"

Charlotte reached up to kiss his cheek and the closed her eyes, nestling closer to him, "goodnight, Henry,"

"Charlotte?"

"Hmm?" she replied sleepily.

"I love you very much dear," Henry murmured as he slid further under the blankets.

"I love you too, dear," she replied as she drifted off to sleep, a picture of Will and Jem appearing in her head and making her smile as dreams overcame her.


End file.
